Well, actually, she adopted me. I used to have two cats, had them both for 15-16 years; they both died within a month of each other nearly eight years ago. It's taken this long to find the right one/be found by the right one.

She's a colony kitten, born this year in the late spring in the little copse of trees behind my apartment building, one of only two from that litter. Several of us have been working with the cats to get them fixed and checked out and keep them fed and semi-socialize them. Except the kittens got fully socialized, and one of them adopted me (the other disappeared about a month and a half ago; he was such a sweetie we're hoping someone adopted him, and I don't care to think otherwise).

She's a brown tabby, spotted underneath (roll the tiger over and reveal a leopard!). I've named her Althea after the Grateful Dead song, and she already has a tie-dye name tag.

And she doesn't merely lie down to get petted, she undergoes a Catastrophic Appendage Failure and collapses in a heap, purring like a tribble the whole time. :D

Picture? Okay.